Blame
by SephirothChild15
Summary: I wish I could be scared of you    PG/PG 13. Blameshipping. Possessed Jou x Anzu


PG/PG 13. Blameshipping. (Possessed Jou x Anzu)

Author's Note: I debated on making this end in a kiss, or something "more explicit,". I wrote the explicit version, but I decided to cut the rated R stuff out.

This story takes place in season two (I think it's two) where possessed Joey/Jounouchi is about to duel Yugi. Cannonly, Jounouchi is possessed at the time, but he holds some shards of his own thoughts. This story takes place from Anzu/Teá's point of view during an "interesting" few moments with possessed Jou/Joey. Let me know if you guys want something more explicit. I wouldn't mind tacking on another version of this story for those wanting something a bit more sexy. Oh yeah. I have no idea why I went with Japanese names this time around. And for the love of cake COMMENT.

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><p><em>He's not Jounouchi <em>

It's surreal. I'm looking into a face I should know – a face I _do _know with all my heart – but he's not Jounouchi. Dark shadows have warped and mangled his features until his vestige is only an eerie copy of the boy I once knew. His skin is the same tan as in my memories, but his rugged angles now look as sharp as flint. His body is familiar, only now his muscles are hard and tensed with adrenaline.

He stands on the opposite side of the old warehouse from me, but it's so close that I'm suffocating. I see his lips twist up in a demented grin, as the large garage door creaks closed behind him. He knows that it's just me and him in this cage of concrete and cinderblocks.

Those dirty-blond fringes of hair, that cocky smile, his casually defiant stride as he quickly closes the distance between us – it all proves his identity. This is Jounouchi. But this is Jounouchi reduced only to the most primal instincts – survival, blood, passion.

But the most unsettling feature is his eyes. If they were dull and flat, I wouldn't be this disturbed. But the hazel rings of color shimmer and sparkle in low levels of light that filter through the dirty warehouse windows. They are glistening, they're excited, they're more alive than I have ever even them. His eyes aren't dead with mind control, but on fire with bloody desire and passionate hatred. They dance with the idea of bloodlust.

And they're so damn beautiful

Perhaps it's my natural gravitation towards the bad boys in my life, but I can't help but shiver with a sickening thrill as he says my name, a raspy, rough breath. "Anzu, I need you to come with me"

"No," I state flatly, all the while I find myself boring into his eyes. They are on fire, and they are pulling me into his Hell. For every slow, intimating stride forward, I find myself scurrying backwards.I feel the walls close in around me as my confusion swallows me. Is this reality? Is this a dream? Is this some illicit fantasy that has finally broken free from the forbidden corners of my mind? This is a boy I know well, but why is he staring at me with such greedy eyes? And why does my heart _skip-skip-beat_ like a rabbit – so small and tiny and scared and _excited._

"Don't be that way, Anzu-_chan"_ The old Jounouchi would never use such formalities with me, and the stress on the suffix is tinged with mockery. "Weren't you just looking for me?" His voice is surreally deep. He stalks slowly across the room like an animal, power showing in every ripple of muscle, in every fiber of his soul that may or may not any longer be there.

"No," I say again, weaker this time. He's right. My friends were the clear thought to penetrate the haze of pain and darkness. I woke up in this trashed warehouse, the dirt and dust inches thick around me. I sat alone, in the dark, imagining the tortures, the pain, the sexual favors that could be demanded of me. But I never could have been prepared for this, this _animal,_ in Jounouchi's body.

My heels hit the wall. I'm out of places to run. But he still advances towards me. My heart pounds in time with his footsteps. My body tenses and my nerves dance. Is this was a caged animal feels like?

This adrenaline running through my veins heightens my senses. I never realized how much taller he is than me. I'm eye level to the hollow of his throat. His clavicles are clearly and unnaturally pronounced and it reminds me of how fit he truly is. He's thin, lean, and muscular like a predator. The veins in his neck pulse under his skin. What anger, what raw power, what mixture of poison and century old magic runs through him at this very moment that has caused this change in him? The blood throbs strongly under the skin, and it's the only proof that he's still human. His Adams apple waves as a sign of his raw masculinity as he growls out. "Are you scared Anzu-chan?"

My nerves tingle in anticipation. . I can smell the sweat and raw pheromones rise off his skin in waves. He's too close to me. The vertebrae in my neck crack painfully as I strain my neck upwards to see his face. This is an unnatural angle and it's fitting that it's physically excruciating to look at his contorted features. I reach his eyes- those beautiful hate filled eyes. The dark passion sparks like diamonds. "No" I finally answer, but my voice shakes. It's my weakest response yet.

In a quick and violent flash of power, he plows his fist into the wall, less than two inches from my head and I swear to god that I feel the wall – and my skull- shakes. My heart jumps, and my legs go to jelly. I realize that I squeaked like a tiny mouse, caught in the jaws of a wild cat. That strike would have shattered my orbital bones. I know that Jounouchi has always been a brawler, but now he doesn't even flinch at pain.

I turned my head slowly, afraid to see the place where his fists slammed in to cinder black and mortar. There it is, mere inches in front of me. The skin on his knuckles has split and blood spurts out of his crushed vessels and pools into the concaved woods. The blood continues to pour and it clings to his skin, rolls down his wrists and dripping to the floor in pronounced drops. I think I'm going to be sick.

"Wrong answer," He spats. But I can't face him. I'm still watching his blood drip to the floor like a leaky faucet. I'm staring. How can he not feel that? He catches my chin with his left hand, the none-bloody one, and turns my head to face him. I'm trapped by his forearms, but I don't even both to run. I just stare as he inches closer, and the heat from his body radiates over my skin. I shiver despite his hellish body heat. I'm less than three inches away from him. My heart flutters wildly in my chest. Why can't I move? His bangs brush like spider's legs against my forehead. Then he captures my lips with his own.

It's like nothing I've ever experienced. It's like the flames of hell and the pleasure of heaven burn on my lips, and run through my body like kerosene. Every nerve, every muscle, _everything_ comes alive with his kiss. My lips quiver against his. I'm disgusted at my willingness to move with him, to let myself be dominated so easily. I can feel my morality attempt to claw at my brain. This is wrong. This is betrayal. This isn't even Jounouchi. My head swims with the surreal-ness of it all, but I'm brought back to reality by the cold brick against my back and the sound of his blood still dripping to the floor.

I close my eyes – not because this is romantic, but because I can't bear to stare into the face of my downfall.

He breaks the kiss just as abruptly. He moves in closer and I feel his hot pants in my ear. "You do what I say, you got that Anzu-chan?"

I'm too shocked, too disgusted at myself and this animal in Jounouchi's body. But if he's an animal, then he has made me an animal too. It might be a blessing in disguise because animals don't known sin. I nod, but he's already got my wrists, and his hot blood begins to congeal on my skin as he leads me away. To where, I don't know. But I can imagine Marik or whoever is waiting.

Jounouchi: If we make it through this alive, you won't remember this. But the proof is in writing in our flesh; in your broken hand and my bruised body. I want you to that, that if Yami, or Yugi, or whatever personality is in charge, confronts me about this. I'm going to blame it all on_ you._


End file.
